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VOICES 



FROM THE 



n 



CASCADES 



i 




-by/ 
ORRIN E. HARMON 



I 



Lewis County Bee Print. 



VOICES 



FROM THE 



P 1 



BY 



ORRIN E. HARMON 




CHEHAUS, W. T.: 

Lewis County Bek Peint, 

1886. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES 



THE LYRE. 



O who witli dullness hears the strain 
That lives within the Muse's lyre ; 

That falls in niany a soft refrain 

And fills oui- longing heart's desire? 

Of fri<Mi(lship, peaee and love divine 

The sacred lyre forever sings ; 
Though swept hv feeble hands like mine. 

Eternal are its golden strings. 

When eare and grief o'ereloud the soul, 

Thos(i strains ran soothe the heart forlorn 

Like siren songs they sweetly roll 

P''(n- all their notes are heaven-born. 

The earth and starry lighted skies 

Are tilled with music's charming tone; 

And when from earth the spirit flies, 
It seeks God's music-circled throne. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



OUR COUNTRY'S FLAG. 



Dear fiag of my country, thou emblem 8o fair, 

That plays to the wavering breeze. 
Thou seemest in joy a loved child of the air, 

The sons of thv country to please. 

For who can behold thy l^right streaming bars. 

Thy union of red, white and blue ; 
Or look on thy grand constellation of stars, 

But feel his love throbbings renew? 

How many a patriot's soul thou hast fired 

To plead by sweet Liberty's side ! 
How many a hero thy sheet has inspired 

To fight for the land of his pride ! 

On the red battle field thou hast seen stricken fortns-: 

The wounded, the dying, the brave ; 
Thou hast mournfully waved through tlie snn-ligld nnd 
storms. 

As the warrior was hiid in his grave. 

And when the smoke of the battle was gone. 

And vict'ry bade war-terrors cease. 
How fondly the soldier has followed fbee home 

To breathe the sweet blessings of peace. 

And oft when watching thy tloating so grand^ 

I think of our country's bright past; 
long 'neath thy folds may she unriv(>n stand 

And glory ])e hers at the last. 

Thou glorious banner, forever unroll 

Thy colors o'er land and o'er sea; 
And e'er shall our songs from the depths of llie S(>ul 

Be given to freedom and thee. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



THE LAND OF WASHINGTON. 



Boast not to me that otliei- lands 

Have greater l)eauties than c ur own ; 

Creation's circle here expands 

In charms nnrivalled and alone. 

Beside the mild Pacific seas 

This region fair lies bordering; 

Kissed gentiy by the o(?ean breeze, 
Blooms ever in perennial spring. 

Supremely grand her mountains rise 
To realms of everlasting snow ; 

And from those peaks built to the skies, 
A thousand stream^ unceasing flow. 

And gather brooks from glen and hill : 
The pearly waters murmuring free. 

With music all the valleys fill 
And go rejoicing to the sea. 

Here spreads enchanting forest wealth 
And plenty crowns the fruitful soil ; 

Here comfort, competence and health 
Await the sturdy laborer's toil. 

Our ladened ships the billows brave 

And bear the stars and stripes afar ; 

Soon may our Nation's Banner wave 
More proudly v.-ith another star. 

Then one and all we'll work and sing 

To make our domain free and great, 

And to the Union ranks we'll bring 
The emblems of a mighty state. 

Through peace and Avar, joy and distress, 

Forever as the ages run, 
With patriot hearts we'll fondlv bless 

The name and land of WASHINGTON. 



VOICES FROM THE OASCADEB. 



THE LOGGER'S SONG. 



My home is in the wild wood, 

Among the grand old trees, 
V.diere flowers bloom and murmur brooks 

And plays th^ c<H)li)ig hveeze. 
I lov(^ the axe's ringing sU'uke, 

The roar about the uiill ; 
They're sweet to me as the gentle song 

Of bird or trickling rill. 

I hear a band of voices 

Wake up tbe solitude ; 
The teamster's angry talk did seem 

At first so very rude. 
He bids the oxen "'gee" and "haw", 

H(^ shouts a startling "whoa''; 
But then 'twould vex a monkish saint 

80 awkardly they go. 

You think my lot is rather tough 

In the woods so far away; 
You think I am too blunt and rough 

For fashion's circle gay. 
'Tis true I eat a hearty meal 

At dinner time and all ; 
And oh ! so ghnl it makes me feel 

To hear the cook's loud call. 

Ye dainty dudes dyspeptic, 

So stylish and polite, 
Come, log awhile — 'twill strengthen 

Your sense and appetite. 
Ye pale in foul-aired cities, 

Who fret the livelong day, 
Come out and breathe the wholesome air. 

View nature's bright array. 

Then scorn not my employment; 

Though right severe it be, 
I have lots of enjoyment 

All innocent and free. 



li) 



VOTCE!^- FROM THE CASCADES. 



And now I tell you plainly, 

(For gold I would not fib) 

I've whiled away full many an eve 
At seven-up and crib. 

You talk ol stately mansions, 

In charuis of art supreme ; 
Give me my rustic cabin 

Beside the wooded stream. 
ye in cot or gilded hall, 

Ye freemen of our land, 
Forget not evermore to bless 

The logger's sturdy hand. 



TO MT. ST HELENS. 



(at SINSKT. ) 

Mountain lh;it gi-andly sonrcsl. 

Far ill the depth h'ss sky. 
Whjit henvenly clini-iiis thou showcst 

l^i'om thy grny jx'ak so hiuli ! 

Thou art 'mong earth-* scenes grandest 
As the seasons come and go. 

Fair as a bride thou standest 

Decked in thy garb of snow. 

The woodsman in his log hut, 

Though far from friend is he, 

Is not from thy beauty shut, — 
A friend he has in thee. 



Kings girt with power and crown 
May view thy glory bi-ight ; 

Their scej^tre be low brought down. 
But changeless rules thy might. 



VOICES FBOM THE CABCADES. H 



O mountain, white robod muuntain, 

How lofty thy ho hi hrow ! 
Thou art ujajeyty's fountain, 

Enihloin of o-reatnc^ss tliou. 

rp thy h,)n(> hei.uhts a ivind woi-d 
1 wish some voice would h(\ar; 

Circhng thy foru', freedom's bird 
Floats in the snowy air. 

And from tliv throne so stately, 

Oe'i'looking a vast world, 
Groat king of niountains tell me 

The scenes thou seest unfurled. 

("'J'here forest> stretch — the world's pride- 
Mounts rise o'er liill and plain ; 

Theie famed Columbia's tide 

Rolls to the ).>oundlcss main.") 

Does not'the glorious sun 

(hi Pacific's wave look bright? 

WIkm. in the glens day is done, 
On thee still gleams his light. 

Gorgeous are the sunbeams 

That 'round thy summit meet ; 

Lulling songs are in the streanjs 
Tliat murmur at thy feet. 

When summer skies are o'er thee, 

And blow the l)almy gales, 
Dost thou not breathe with heart free 

The airs of flowery dales? 

So many are the blessings 

By thee to mortals giv^en, 
Thou must receive caressings 

From the kind hand of heaven. 



12 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



Oft as a won(]erin<x child, 

From this green vale below, — 
As one with fancy beguiied, 

I l(M^k on thy croAvn of snow. 

Mountain that skyward towerest, 
As if the stars to njeet, 

Good night, shadows o'er tliee rest ; 
Thv niorn-lit face I'll g'eet. 



THE MOUNTAIN STREAM. 



silver stream, whence (H)inest tliou? 
As vears agone so thou art now 

Thy steady way pursuing. 
With joy the same as wlien a child 

1 visit thee ; thy haunts so wild 

I never tire of viewing. 

Thy home must he some lofty height 
Where fountains si)arkle day and night 

And cool airs are eternnl ; 
Thy current pure as heaven's hlne 
Recesses shady wanders through ; — 

Thy banks are fresh and vernal. 

Thou seemest never to want rest, 
W^ith happ}^ spirit thou art blest, 

Thy joy is endless motion. 
Thou pourest out a babbling strain 
To forest, glen and swelling plain 

Till lost within the ocean. 

Thou hast made weary hearts rejoice 
With thy enchanting flowing voice 

And rich, health-giving treasure. 
Tired man and beast by thee have knelt^ 
Thy waters drank and never felt 

More deep and certain pleasure. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 13 



The young and old along thy marge 
Gather to share thy bounty large 

And spend delightful hours. 
Sweet blossoms by thee ever blow, 
Tall spreading trees beside thee grow 

And make the fairest bowers. 

And ever when I come to thee. 
Though sad or merry I may be, 

I'll leave some word caressing ; 
And as I sail Time's changing tide, 
Thy constancy shall be my guide, 

Thy purity my blessing. 



THE BEAUTIFUL HILLS. 



Beautiful hills that crown the earth, 

And wear a beauty through sorrow and mirth; 

That heavenward lift your inspiring forms 

Through sun-bright days and darkening storms; 

O'erlooking the vales in yourgUidsome hue, 

This world most dear must seem to you. 

How oft mine eyes in wanderings free 

Have looked on your sweet tranquility ; 

What joy .«?erene my soul e'er fills. 

As I 2;aze and think on the beautiful hills I 



14 TDTCES FRCDrTHE "(TASCrADKS. 



Through ages long 3^e have proudly stood 

Clothed in beautiful solitude. 

Ere man on earth's wild face appeared, 

Above creation's vast ye reared, 

And through the countless years sublime 

Watched silently the workings of time ; 

And greeted with smiles a beauteous land, 

From wildness won by labor's hand. — 

Ye have looked on many a battle field 

Where glittered, helmet, sword and shield. 

And on you have shone the fires of camp ; 

Ye have felt the soldier's weary tramp. 

And heard the shout of victory won. 

And blest the victor when strife was done ; 

Rejoiced with him in war's release 

As he sought his home of love and peace. 



Your praises the Muses of old have sung 
And deep admiration around you hung; 
And Oh ! what secrets within you dwell ! 
What wondrous tales ynir volumes can tell ! 
Ye have stored for me life cheering scenes 
Of verdurous tops and deep ravines, 
Where grove and cliff and liowery dell 
In wild enchantment pleasingly swell. 
To those lone retreats, O let me stray 
And cull the joys of a summer day, 
And list to the songster that sweetly trills 
And fills with music the beautiful hills. 



The quiet hills are not solemn and dead : 
O'er theii* heights the deer and the rabbit tread, 
And the huntsman chases the innocent game. 
Hi? hope of a conquest ever the same : — 
On the summits the birds look cheerily down 
And blink o'er forest meadow and town ; 
And playfully rustle the dark green leaves. 
And searches each nook the soft summer breeze, 
And fans my cheek each zephyr that blows 
Bringing the breath of the odorous rose. 



vdTCEs rnoM thv cascades: 15 



From the hilltop I view the valleys around; 

They rest in a stillness and peace profound : 

So lovely, they seem every charm to unite, — 

They have won the love of my wandering sight. 

I look on fields enchantingly dressed ; 

There are vines some hand has fondly caressed, 

And orchards that bear the fairest of fruit 

Gathered by friends — some cold and mute. 

I watch the beauties of each bordering glen 

Receding to the op{)osite liills again; 

And gilding this rural, Eden-like scene. 

The waters meander through mea^lows of green, 

F(".l by the laughing, silvery rills 

That gush from the bountiful, beautiful hills. 

In the door of my cottage musing I sit. 
And o'er my mind those h,'i[>py scenes Hit : 
I think of the joys and pure deligh.ts 
Fve shared in my ramble among those heights: 
And again I l<K)k ; on the green hill-top 
The sunbeams re^-t nor long will they stop: 
The dews of the evening are beginning to fall, 
But the sun of the morning will scatter then.! all 
And when he comes forth <lispersing the night, 
The vales will smile 'lUMith the gladdening light 
In all earth's creatures he jov instills 
When the morning rays kiss the beautiful hills. 



beautiful hills, ye havc^ cheered me long; 
What golden memories around you throng! 
To you as m friend, since childhood days, 
With fond devotion I have turned my gaze. 
From year to year ye firmly endure 
Faithful to all. steadfast and sure. 
Ever with you shall my syfnpathy dwell 
To learn pure thoughts and evil dispel, 
And the lessons you teach I shall treasure away. 
To lighten my journey to life's last day; 
And when Heaven'.s sight my \Tsi6n fills. 
Then sing to me of the beautiful hills. 



16 -VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



MARIETTA. 



'Twas mid the wilds of the Golden west, 
Where yet fond Memory loves to roam 

O'er mounts where snows eternal rest, 
Secluded dwelt this mountain home. 

There echo not the strains of men ; 

Their foo.tsteps now no more intrude; 
Save brooklet murmurs, o'er the glen 

Supremely reigns lone solitude. 

There Nature spreads her loveliest scenes 

And charms the sweetest throng the wood ; 

Near by a crystal mountain stream 
The lowly cot of the valley stood. 

And years bui few their course have fled 
Since quietude was there dispelled, 

And where now sleep the loved ones dead 
The airs with child-like accents swell'd. 

That happy throng the wild wood knew 

All to death's shadowy vale had gone, 

Save Marietta, fair and true, 

Who with her father dwelt alone. 

And silvery age on him had worn 

The trace that told of life's decline ; 

How sweet the days he past was borne 
So softly on the wings of Time. 

His tottering step and trembling hand 
The presage true impressive gave, 

Ere long he'd know that happy land 

Whose joys are spread beyond the grave. 

Affection's stream, how pure it flowed 

Forth from the hearts thai lingered there ! 

The father's tender love bestowed 

Returned the daughter's rev'rent care. 



YOTCliJS FROM THE CASCADES. 17 



Pure as the tint of crystal snow, 

Her soul was free from stain or guile; 

Fair beauty bloomed in cliarming glow, 
And virtue marked its lovely smile. 

Her aged sire she ne'er forgot ; 

His whitened locks she sm.othed with pride ; 
Each want his withering frame begot, 

Her willing heart and hand supplied. 

There through the long, oft weary hours. 
Her sweet caresses blest the day, 

Till eve when forth to favorite bowers 
Her happy wanderings led their way. 

And oft at eventide she'd muse. 

Beside the brook that murmurs by, 

And fondly watch the sunset hues 

Whose glowing tints bedecked the sky. 

The gentle zephyrs seenrd a balm 

Breathed o'er her soul as forth she roved, 
Where reigned the drowsy evening calm 

O'er wilds her fancy ever loved. 

And when she homeward turned her way 
And pleasure's hour was counted o'er, 

Her father's smile — a golden ray — 

Dawned on her grw'.<' ftx-ui the cottage door. 

She near'd and on his cheek she pressed 
Her hand— so gentle was its wield 

Of that pure joy, they'd long caressed,— 
That loving hearts alone can yield. 

One eve the (nistomed way she stroU'd 
Amid the towering groves so fair. 

Beside the mountain stream that roll'd 
Brushed by the balmy evening air. 



18 . VOICES JFRO}i THE CASCAI>E9. 



From those woo'd haunts of joy she turned 

Her sire's sweet smile to greet no more ! 
Mid anxious craze in vain she yearned 



For that aged form in the eotta<^e door. 



Dim was the light of parting day, 

When Marietta sorrowing stood, 
Beside her speechless sire who lay 

Mid airs of death-like solitude. 

His clammy hands she gently pressed ; 

Cold and pale was his furrowed cheek ; 
Beyond earth's realms he dwelt at rest 

Where cometh not the winter bleak. 

And when the morrow came arrayed, — 
With springtime beauty mmtled o'er, 

Low in his grave he there was In id 

Beside the loved ones gone before. 

And Marietta's tribute graced 

His grave — to her a holy shrine; — 

There with a reverent tear she placed 
A myrtle 'neath a verdant pine. 

Oft to his grave she roams to strew 

Bright flowers — pure emblems, sweet, divine; 
And like the evergreen's fair hue. 

Her virtues still unfadin"; shine. 



VOICES PROM THE CASCADES. 19 



VOICE OF THE MOUNTAIN. 



I rise in silent grandeur 

O'er all the creatures of earth ; 
I speak of the mipjht and power 

Of Hi in who gave me birth. 

Through the rolling years and seasons, 
Like a sentinel true I stand ; 

Nor fall when the tempest strikes me 
With swift and violent hand. 

I wateh with steady vision 

The changes beneath the sky — 

The abodes of the dead and living 
In the valleys that round me lie. 

Deem not my form so kingly 
Is dead to sorrow and love ; 

My countenance, mind and feeling 
Are kindred to heaven above. 

When the summer rays sliine o'er me, 
My frozen tears, how they flow ; 

They are tears of ghadness filling 
The fretting brooks below ; 

Flowing onward and onward 

To the broad and restless sea; 

But the sun and wind u ill return them, 
My tears of gladness to me. 

Dear children, fondly listening 

To the streamlet's musical flow, 

That murmur sings of the beauty 
Hid in my treasures of snow. 

In the sultry hour of noonday, 

The breeze you welcome as sweet, 

Has breathed the wintry coolness 
Of my lofty, lone retreat. 



20 TO'TCES FHOM' THE CASCADES. 



I tower ill silent grandeur, 

Through darkness, storm and light ; 
The first to greet the sun's rising, 

The last to bid him good night. 

And when you bid me good night, 
The cold, still mansions to keep, 

I'll cherish your memory ever 

And i^uard the vales where you sleep. 



OUT WEST. 



Once, in no distant eastern clime, 
A lawyer young, with zest. 

Betook the migl>ty notion 

That he would travel west. 

To a land of wealth and plenty — 
It was a common boast — 

The famous land of Washington, 
On the Pacific coast. 

O'er the plains and rugged mountains 

He rode his h^nely way, 
An<] landed safe where all liis hopes 

And drean^s did f(>n<by play. 

Surveying all the pros}>ect wide, 
Resolved to drive his stake; 

And there among the mammoth firs 
His fame and fortune make. 

liut soon he learned with keen surprise 
One thing he sur.^ must do, 

.Just like bis youthful lawyer kin, 
Must teach a school or two. 



VOICES TROM THE CASCADES. "21 



With wonted courage forth he strov«3 

At the schoolmaster's task ; 
The spot where he and pupil toil'd, 

0, querist, never ask. 

One pleasant morn the master came 

Into the cahin rude ; 
He paused, and through the yawning rents 

The mountain scenery viewed. 

And chise he eyed the homely frame — 

The henches ph'iinly made ; 
The breezes soft most freely through 

The paneless windows p Laved. 

''Though hard my lot it seemeth be, 

Yet sweet enjoyment fills 
My soul, for 'tween these rustic logs 

I'll scan the dales and hills." 

His jHipils^were of varied cast; 

Some few so eager strove 
To learn, they seemed bound to their books 

With ties of wedded love. 

Some were so l)rainless for thick skulls, 
Naught could in them be sent 

With all the moral 'suasion 

That prayer and rod invent. 

One day while arguing into these 
Some good old fashioned lore, 

The skies were canopied with clouds, 
The rain and hail did pour. 

Upon the hollow sounding roof 

The deaf'ning beat was spread ; 

The master felt the driving hail 
Upon his hairless head. 



22 VOICES- FROM THE CASCA-DES. 



And casting heavenward his gaze. 
Grave terror filled his soul — 

He spied the hail a pelting through 
An empty stove-pipe hole. 

And as the storm more angry grew, 
The winds more hmdly roared, 

The master, stung with hail and grief, 
His lanjcntations poured. 

"Alasjsuch is the fate of all 

Young lawyers who will go, 

From eastern joys to western wilds. 
And with the country grow. 

"In this fair land of sunny bliss 

My fancy did revere, 
The Sunshine comes in watery drops 

Just thirteen months a year. 

"O, give me back my dear old home, 
That sweet old home of mine. 

Where Johnny-cake and ague thrive 
Beneath the bright sunshine." 

And of the rain and hail and hut, 

There yet remains to tell, 
Upon the lawyer's barren head, 

A decent fleshy swell. 

And people wonder as they gaze^ 
And think son»e genius great 

Lies 'ncath that bump that soon will rule 
In nation and in state. 

But ye phrenologists and all. 

No undue laurels rob ; 
It was a wicked hailstone 

Did the unsightly job. 



VOICES FROM- THR CASCADES.- 23 



UNCLE TICE. 



Old Uncle Tice he had a son, — 

A wa3^ward bo}' was he ; 
He turned his back on home and friends 

And off he went to sea. 

And uncle had a daughter fair, 

Of winning ways and shrewd ; 

She did outwit her pa and ma 

And skipped out with a dude. 

Now Uncle Tice and his dear spouse 

In sorrow lived alone ; 
They did confess their fondest joys 

On fickle wings had flown. 

So, counting all their troubles o'er, 

Resolved it was the best 
To leave the long loved homestead 

And try the ruijged west. 

They started in an ox team rig 

^ Right toward the setting sun, 
Nor rested long until they gained 
The genial Washington. 

And there amid the woody tracts, 
With many a scene to charm, 

They settled by great Puget Sound 
To dig them out a farm. 

Now Uncle Tice's neighbors thought 

He was right capable, 
And so they put him in the race 

For precinct constable. 

But oh, that sad election day ! 

INIust I its issue note? 
Dear Uncle lost the cherished prize 

By just a. single vote ! 



24 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



With heavy heart he homeward went — 
"What have the vihains done? 

Dear Jane, I'm not an ofheer 
Bv one vote, only one !" 



"Cheer up my dear," she calmly said; 

"Your gentle self regain ; 
Thoujrh strange it seem to you, my dear, 

I'll make the matter plain. 

"I've ever had, my dearest Josh, 
Your welfare dee]) at heart ; 

If you were constable, my .dear. 
We oft must live apart. 

"We women here in Washington 

Can vote just as we like ; 
I — I voted not for you, my dear. 

But for our neighbor Pike." 

"Cursed be the woman's vote !" he cried ; 

"Farewell to home and thee !" 
He fled and climbed a ragged cliff 

That overlooks the sea, 

And plunged right into Puget Sound, 
That bed of unknown graves ; 

His wife a mourning widow still, 
He sleeps beneath the waves. 

Ye wlio may read this doleful tale 
Wlien 'lection days come 'round, 

Remember well the reason why 
Old Uncle Tice got drowned. 



V0TCE3^ TViO-MT tHE ' CAfeCl!5l5S. " '!25 



THE LAWYER'S CAREER. 



Far out west in a thriving town, 
An eastern lawyer settled down. 

His books were few, his capital small, 
Yet 'twas a fact he owned them all. 

Thus free from debt, and free from a wife, 
This lawyer began liis western life. 

An office he took on a busy street 

And hung out his "shingle" large and neat; 

And thought he surely that sign so plain 
Would bring him clients and flushing gain. 

lie sat in his office day after day ; 
Weeks and months passed slowly away. 

He built high hopes and dreamed of fame ; 
For his ready service no one came. 

But a strong purpose was part of his mould ; 
He declared he would wait with courage bold ; 

And he said, "Somehow I do not thrive; 
If I cannot mow, I'll whet m}^ scj'the." 

x\nd now to the careless world he looks, 
Then turn.s with anxious mind to his books. 

Through all the day we see him toil, 
And e'en he burns the midnight oil, 

Conning the masters new and old 
From Edward Coke to P]stee and Gould; 

Still learning, planning and dreaming of fame, 
But unto him yet no clients came. 

A thought crossed o'er his troubled mind : 
"This world to me seems verv unkind : 



28 VOICES FROM- THE CASCADES. 



"The people here too much are given 

To things less earthly and more of heaven. 

"Adieu for a time, dear law books; once more 
I'll try the schoolroom, as in days of yore." 

And in a log cabin, by rules of three, 
He trains the urchins ri^^ht masterly. 

A 3^ear has passed — the lawyer and sage 

From the school room parts as a bird from its cage. 

To his office be goes — from beginning to end 
It looks like a sad, deserted friend. 

Again by his books he studiously sits, 
Striving to live by his learning and wits; 

Filling his mind with solid rules 

To be practiced in courts and not in the schools. 

At length, one day, to his office came 
A man good looking, aged and lame ; 

And despite good looks, hi^ bearing so old, 
This is the story the lawyer he told : 

"Dv^ar Mr. Lawyer, I am in trouble ; 

My cares of late seem anxious to double. 

"This old politics^ bitter with strife. 
Mars the concord 'tween me and wife. 

"I'll not tell all that sours our bliss, 
But the chief trouble seems to be this : 

"I am from York-state, she is from Maine; 
I am for Cleveland, she is for Blaine. 

"We argue and argue and all to no good — 
At last we stand where first we stood, 

"Unless, perchance, she fiercely uproars. 
And threatens to drive me clean out of doors. 



'TOTCES FHOM THE CASCADES. 27 



''And it seems, kind sir, since vote that she can, 
I am the woman and slie is the man. 

"I try to be patient, gentle and pure — 
I can not, dear sir, this misery endure. 

"And now, Mr. Lawyer, since I've come to you, 
Pray tell me, kind sir, what am I to do?" 

*'A divorce ! a divorce !" the lawyer replied ; 
*' 'Tis the best cure that ever was tried. 

"Just fifty dollars ; the suit I'll begin ; 
It is a good cause — I surely can win." 

To the grave old Judge the story was told ; 
As he listened, his eyes most strangely rolled. 

The man told his tale, then came a halt. 
For she had made what they call a default. 

And the lawyer argued until he was hoarse. 
Praying the Judge to grant a divorce. 

But the st^rn old Judge squarely ruled ; 
(He was too old that wa\' to be fooled) : 

"Fm puzzled, astonished, beat with surprise 
That such a case should ever arise. 

"Nothing but politics causes the trouble ; 
'Tis no cause of action, 'tis but a bubble. 

"The plaintiff and she who does not appear 
Together must live for many a year, 

"And such petty jars keep down for the while 
And each give the other kind words and a smile, 

"For bringing this suit, so foolish, now lost, 
The attorney shall pay two-thirds of the cost." 

Defeated and sad, the lawyer paced 
Back to his ofiice, feeling disgraced.' 



28 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



And he swore that until he grew insane 
He'd enter the court-room never again. 

To thoughts more huml)le the lawyer turned ; 
For a smiling home he ardently 3^earned. 

By a bargain made with shrewdness and tact 
He gained for himself a five acre tract. 

And he bade his ambition a long farewell ;" 
On his five-acre tract he went to dwell ; 

But not all alone I would have you to know — 
He took a fair maiden pure as the snow. 

And there with his loved one he planted a home 
Where all rural beauty pleasantly shone. 

And still there he lives with his garden and wife 
Leading a peaceable, innocent life. 

A half dozen children or less he can show, 
And still the family continues to grow. 

The worry for office or partisan broil 
His solid contentment can not des2:)oil. 

Good heorted, neighborly, honest and shrewd, 
He bows not to lawyer, doctor, or dude : 

For he lives independent, his own lord and king, 
And of his sweet peace long shall we sing. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 29 



LEGALIS SATIRICUS. 



When God created hun^an kind, 
To each he various gifls assigned: 
For rural toil, the workshop some, 
A tew to peal sweet music's hum ; 
Fair Genius' high aspiring hearts 
To muse among the finer arts; 
Those minds of curious seekiog range 
To cure diseases sad and strange ; 
And many — both the grave and droll — 
To Ileal the ailings of the soul; 
And nmst I pause to mention here 
The dandy-dude, b}" way of jeer? 

All these sometimes their quarrels have; 
To make them worse, a gift of gab 
God gave a few, with much of brass, — 
For lawyers these are wont to pass ; 
A clan, though to mankind no curse, 
Delight to make a lively "furse," 
By prating loud in torrents free, 
When naught inspires but just a fee. 



If long a city street you chance, 

And little 'round should cast a glance, 

A lettered tin your eye may draw : 

*Tetkr Swipes, Attorney at Law." 

Doubtless a little queer it seems. 

But this is what that sign-board means 



''Come unto me, ye rich and poor: 
I hold the key to wisdom's door; 
The power of Gilead's balm is mine, 
My skillful aid is ever thine ; 
The title to youf lands I'll m^nd. 
Make debtors pay to those v;ho lend ; 
If Dick and Jane can not agree, 
From wedded bonds I'll set them free. 



30 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



Ye who are given to kill and steal, 

For peace no inclination feel. 

Do come to me, and mercy, oh ! 

I'll make yoar heart with rapture glow ; 

Though Satan's guilt your soul attaint, 

I'll picture you a heavenly saint. 

("Now this I say to one and all; 
Tliat when you make a business call, 
Let not my joy your faith upjar, 
For nothing 'tis but a cigar. 
Whose fumes 'round my uplifted feet, 
Display a lovely, smoky sheet 
That is to me surpassing sweet.") 

Now watch tliis justice dealer court; 

Behold his mein of lordly sort ! 

As to the stand each witness goes 

To spin the tale of what he knows. 

The lawyer's visage plainh' lells 

An ardent yearning in him swells. 

If from the adversary's cause 

He cross-examined knowledge draws, 

With cunning aim he pertly darts 

A query wreathed in tangling arts ; 

And thinks — "Tiunigh he's a v.-itness stout. 

I'll turn his stt^ry round about, 

?>Iake all his answers contradict, 

Get all his brains bad intermixt — 

So muddled he can ne'er I trow 

Tell whether he said ves or no ; 

And nil l)ystanders full of glee,— 

An Alek stnnrt I am you see." 

Bee you yon group of drowsy men 
In number aU two more than ten? 
To mete out justice there they sit; 
The less they know the better fit. 
The lawyer soon before tllem stands 
With flashing eye and waving hands. 
Depicting tierce in phrases strong 
His client's rights and suffered wrong. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 31 

Now list to his bewailing roar 

As forth he spreads his legal lore : 

His stormy flights so eloquent, 

They seem sweet sounds from Heaven sent. 

Anon, to show a freak of wit, 

From Pope or Shakspeare quotes a bit; 

Some ti(;kling anecdote he runs 

To raise the laugh of simpletons ; 

While thick and fast the wonders float 

"Is he a Curran, Knave, or Choate? 

How swell our sympathizing nerves I 

Poor client, })ity deep deserves ; 

If that fool crew of motley men 

Do not for him a verdict send,. 

Great Heaven, on them one and all 

Let wrath avenging heavy fall. 

To sober all this fuss}^ growl, 
The judge's penetrating scowl 
Proclaims — to grin is dire disgrace — 
Mirth in him ne'er found lodging place. 

The heart for justice struggling burns; 
The jury's verdict now returns; 
The judgment got by hook and crook 
Is penned within the mighty book, 
Its voice there ever to repeat, 
"Some one always niust get beat." 

From such mishap poor fellow shrinks, 
And thus soliloqizing thinks: 
"To grab one dollar I've lost two ; 
O Lordjforgive^ne'epmore I'll sue, 
For all mv life estate you see 
Mv lawver's turned into a fee." 



S2 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



THE MOUNTAIN CLIMBER. 



"How grandly soars yon mountain height! 

Those radiant tints of blue 
Spread o'er the slopes a mantle bright, 

Enrapturing to my view. 

"O ! let me leave this lonely vale 
And up that mountain climb; 

I'm sure no thorny ways prevail, 
No rugged path is mine. 

'' But o'er that meadowy carpet soft 

My journey brief will be ; 
Around yon rising peak aloft. 

Bright scenes are spread for me.'^ 

Thus spake a youth one summer morn ; 

The skies were soft and fair; 
When charms the mountain wilds adorn 

Allured his yearnings there. 

Yet seemed, as on the weary race 

With hastening step he led, 
The mountain form with equal pace 

Before his vision fled 1 

" 'Tis hut a dream," he muttered low; 

'•Yet others there have been ; 
And though my nearing be but slow, 

The sunnnit I shall win." 

He forth with bright, reviving hopes 

The onward course i>ursued, 
To tread the "fair and njeadowy slopes'' 

Witl^. hopeful e3'e he viewed. 

The upward wa}' began to wind 
O'er rough and dreary wilds; 

His vision roamed in vain to find 
The lawn of flowery aisles. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 38 



Not his to walk the down^y blue 

Afar to him displayed ; 
And seemed that fair illusion's hue 

His simple faith betyayed. 

Alas ! e'en Nature true deceives ! 

That robe of verdant glow 
Was but the spreading forest leaves 

O'erhanging cliffs b^dow ! 

Yet o'er the rocky crags and steep, 

No fenrs aroused his dread; 
Though gathering clouds o'er heaven's deep 

Their drenching torrents shed. 

Anticipation's cheerful ray 

His wearv steps led on. 
Till o'er the rude nnd stormy way 

The mountain height he won. 

O, happy youth, who would true fame, 

To glorious heights ascend, 
Entangling snares of rudest name 

The tiresome road attend. 

Though seem the pathway short and smooth, 

And cloudless l)e the day, 
They often pleasing phantoms prove 

To lure thee on the way. 

Yet, if to please ambition's sigh, 

You tread the rocky glade, 
Press on, around fame's summit high. 

Shine wreathes that never fade. 

'Tis through the long and dusty ways 
Life's honors must be sought; 

The crown that wins true glory's praise 
With wearv toil is bought. 



3-i VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



ANNIVERSARY POEM. 



The march of time once more 

Tells of the sacred day. 
When the notes of freedom were sounded 

Where oppression's arm bore sway. 

And oh ! wliat liallowed scenes 

Were kindled by that old bell, 

That rang from Independence Hall 
The story we love to tell ! 

Those pictures of daring strife 

That glow from history's page, 
May now in calm reflection 

' The patriot's thoughts engage. 

We think that the sire and son 

For us tlieir blood did spill, 
On the fields of Saratoga, 

On the heights of Bunker Hill. 

We think through sufferings grave. 

How true each bore his part ; 
As we count the perils endured, 

What tender sympathies start ! 

The Chieftain of the camp, 

Mid December's chilly air. 
His band leads o'er the icy locks 

Afloat in the Delaware. 

Behold ! at Valley Forge, 

What rude and scanty fare ! 
With naught to cheer mid the winter's gloom, 

Their hopes wrapt in despair. 

As fall the soft rain drops 

On faded, low drooping flowers, 

So came those tidings of joy — 

Burgoyne's great army is ours. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 35 



But list ! from Bennington — 

'Tis on the verge of the fight ; 

"Brave bovs, we'll conquer to-day, 
Or Molly's a widow to-night." 

Deep, oh, deep was the joy 

When Yorktown's final gun 

Proclaimed, ''Now reign gentle peace, 
The battle of freedom is won.'' 

Thus planted our fathers 

The tree of Liberty ; 
It has grown to glorious heights, 

And lovely majesty ; 

Till 'neath its spreading boughs 
America's sons may rest, 

From the stately pines of Katahdin 
To the golden sands of the West. 

Then blest be the heroes of old ; 

We'll herald their d^^eds evermore, 
And sing sweet Liberty's theme 

O'er mountain, valley and shore. 

We'll cherish our country's glory, 
And let her banner wave free, 

Till her fame shall visit in splendor 
The far-awa3^ isles of the sea. 



July 4, 1879. 



36 VOICKS FUO^I THE CASCADES. 



THE PATRIOT. 



Adown the distant ages flown, 

In orient climes across the sea, 

A light in feeble radiance shone — 
The rising sun of Libert\^ 

Adversity's dark, threatening ch)nd 

Around that h)vely orb did h)\ver ; 

And Tyranny, a monarch proud, 

In darkness ruled with evil power. 

The races groaned beneath his chains, 

And freedom of her hope was shorn ; 

Amid the nation's woes and pains 
The hero-patriot was born. 

A messenger from Heaven he seemed : 
His soul was pure, his aim was true ; 

Of highest good he ever dreamed — 
His mi.^sion was to dare and do. 

And when Oppression's heavy arm 

His victims roused to trembling tVars, 

The patriot came at grief's ahirm 

And battled through the stormy years. 

But ere to lields of strife he went. 

He mounted Wisdom's towering height; 
And there a prayerful time he spent, 

Enwrapt in liberty's soft light. 

Through every conflict, every jar, 

In council or on battle held, 
He stood abreast the storm of war, 

And ne'er to treason's host did yield. 

And look upon those luring scenes 

Imprinted on the eras past; 
The patriot there in glory seems, 

His worth lives on while ages last. 



VOICES FUOM TllK CASCADES. 



Thus ruled in Athens Pericles, 

The wise, the gifted and the mild; 

And Eh)quence the world did please, 
In Cicero her favorite child. 

Or trace with sad, regretful eye 

The paths where crimson conquest led; 
Where Caesar marched with courage high, 

Or brave Alaric dared to tread. 

The rude Barbarian, daunted not, 

To spread war's rage o'er smiling Rome ; 
To bring destruction's wasting lot 

To classic shrine and peaceful home. 

And turn where musing faney strays: 

Apollo's ear in rapture hung 
Mid bowei'S where Homer tuned his lays 

And Virgil's heavenly lyre was strung. 

Majestic domes bright genius reared ; 

Art in meridian splendor shone; 
E'en now to us they are endeared, 

Though in time's wreck forever gone. 

But over all the darkness fell ; 

Of liberty scarce shone one ray; 
Iron feudalism worked its spell, 

And genius kept lier tiidden way. 

But lo ! the night begins to break, 

And reason gilds the clouds of morn ; 

The voice of mighty Luther spake 

And superstition shrinks forlorn. 

And hark I upon fair Britain's soil, 

The feudal chains fall from her sons ; 

To higher deeds the patriot's toil 

Goes on, and Right her missiion runs. 



38 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



And knowledge moves in high career 
Illuming all the track of time ; 

A Newton, Milton and Shakspeare 
Reveal creation's stores sublime. 

Again upon the forum grand, 

There swells the patriot's earnest tone; 
The might of Chatham rules his land, 

And Burke in grandeur stands alone. 

The voice of Wilberforce is heard 

In mercy's plea for the oppressed ; 

At that proud name our hearts are stirred, 
A name forever to be blest. 

On terror's scene now falls m3' glance. 

Where awful throes dark evils brood ; 

The cities and the vales of France 

Are deluged with her noblest blood. 

And oh ! what carnage strews the fields 

Where Waterloo's great hosts went down ! 

The Corsica n in anguish vields 

To Wellington the victor's crown. 



Look westward o'er the ocean wave, 

Where famed Columbia's charms abound, 

The gift Genoa's hero gave, 

The fairest r.^alm the earth around. 

From sea to sea her borders run ; 

Through teeming vales broad rivers flow ; 
And glitter in the golden sun, 

Grand mountains tipped with silver snow. 

What means that band at Plymouth Rock? 

Midst gloom and hope they've crossed the sea; 
They reared upon that sacred spot 

The standard of the wise and free. 



VOICES FKOM THE CASCADES. 39 



And look to Jamestown's sunny clime 

Where Smith's strange wanderings begun ; 

Bless "Old Dominion" through all time, 
For Washington and Jeiierson. 

Let wreaths immortal gild their fame 

Who drove the monarch's power away; 

Let honor crown the hallowed name 

Of those who gave this glorious day. 

Beyond the century's parted years 

Is heard the din of raging war; 
Above our anxious hopes and fears, 

Shines radiantly the Union star. 

Ijct glory wait the brave who spoke 

And fought and bled for you and me; 

Who toiled to lift the galling yoke 
Of slavery and to set men free. 

With joyous soul as we survey 

The path the patriot hath trod, 
More warndy glows each passing day 

Our love of countrv, truth and God. 

Behold this land by valor bought. 

Mightier than palmiest Rome; 
Here science, art and daring thought 

With freedom have their welcome home. 

And may the echoes of that bell 

That rang the peal of Liberty, 
For evermore their music swell 

O'er mount and glen, o'er isle and sea. 

E'er may that starry ensign fair 

That floats in red and white and blue, 

Its folds to storm and breezes bare 

And keep us loyal, brave and true. 

July 4th 1685. 



40 - N'OICEH VVA)M THK CASCADES. 



IN MEMORY OF Y/ASHINGTON. 



Bright in our country's storied ^'ears, 
A name divinely great appears; 
Through troubles (hirk, in peace and war, 
lie was the nation's guiding star. 

Scarce yet a man, from home delights 
He treads tlie Alleghany heights, 
And marches o'er the ice and snow 
To stay the dread, invading foe. 

What pronnse then unclouded shone! 
His wisdom seemed to ripeness grown ; — 
Given to make a people free 
From hnvless rule and tyranin'. 

Hear ye the roars that rend the skies? 
See ye the smoky (douds th;it rise 
From Trciiton, I^rinceton and Yorktown? 
To hberty they give the ci-own. 

And as we view eacli stirring scene, 
Through the long yeai-s that intervene, 
Shines forth bright as the rising sun. 
The gh)ry of our Washington. 

Look on his face so care-worn now ; 
The victor's, wreath entwines his hi-ow ; 
Though tried in fields of blond and fire, 
He's ready for ids land's desire. 

And hnrk ! his country calls ag:un : 
"Come forth, to rule thy fellow-men ; 
Fih)t our youthful ship of state 
And be our first Chief Magistrate." 

Serene and tlrin through trying hours, 
He baffled all assailing poNvers ; 
A sentinel toi- light he stood, 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 41 



His was tiio high, heroic life 
That soared a hove low party strife; 
When spake his voice, i^rief felt a halm, 
And raging storms were hushed in calm. 

His Farewell Words, how strong and true ! 
They live with meaning ever new ; 
The golden precepts there lie gave 
Th(? Union still can guide and save. 

The marble shafts reared to his name 
But feebly speak his deathless fame ; 
Look o'er this realm so nobly won, 
Then sing [he praise of Washington. 

O patriot chief, the freeman's pride. 
By fair Potomac's silver tide 
Thy ashes rest, thy worth survives 
To bless our land and mould our lives. 



February 22, 1885. 



42 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



LINCOLN. 



'Twas in the rugged, western wild, 

Afar down in obscurity, 
Was born the honest-hearted child, — 

Reared in the school of poverty. 

'Mid dark discouragements he toiled ; 

In freedom was his deep belief; 
His deeds^ for right were never foiled, — 

He died the nation's honored chief. 

Wise in our country's troubled hour, 
A faithful pilot at her helm ; 

All full of gentleness and power, 

Beloved in earth's remotest realm. 

His name a beacon light shall be, 
A living watchword of renown ; 

That fettered millions might be free, 

He wears the glorious martyr's crown. 

IN MEMORIAM. 



GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 

O let a nation's grief 

Burst forth in tributes high ; 
The Appomattox chief. 

The hero, had to die. 

No more shall that strong hand 
The nation's sword unsheath : 

Among the fallen band 

He wears the martial wreath. 

When by the traitor's arm 

Our flag trailed in the dust, 

He heard war's dire alarm 
And girded for its trust. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 43 



Praise till the earth expires 

The victories he won ; 
How raged those hattle fires, 

Vicksburg and Donelson ! 

And how the rebel horde 

Beneath his war-stroke quailed ! 
His musket and his word 

For freedom never failed. 

And from the crimsoned fields 

The blood-stained flag he bore; 

Treason disarmed yields 

And slavery smites no nsore. 

O never from our souls 

Let that entreaty cease; 

Therp evermore it rolls 

Saying, ''Let us have peace." 

High on the scroll of fame 
The g'olden letters run, — 

Higher than that proud name, 
The mighty Wellington. 

Thy worth's immortal stamped, 

The loyal and brave ; 
'Twas "Unconditional," Grant, 

"Surrender" to the grave. 

If e'er this land again 

On Danger's l)rink shall be. 
O may thy spirit then 

Save our dear liberty. 

Faithful warrior, sleep ; 

Life's battle thou hast won ; 
The millions o'er thee weep, — 

In tears we say, "well done." 



August 8, 1885. 



44 VOICES FPvOM THE CASCADES. 



FELICIA HEMANS. 



Enchantress of the ocean isle, 

From o'er Atlantic seas, 
Thy song comes sweet as wood notes wild, 

Or an ^Eoli'an breeze. 

Thy verse has touched with charming grace 

All themes tlie Muses seek ; 
Thou eyer in full joy didst trace 

Stream, glen and mountain peak. 

The loyeliness of trees and flowers. 

The light of things divine. 
The sacredness of house's sweet bowers, 

Dwell in thy magic line. 

Truth, Justice, and loved Freedom's blaze, 

The great of every clime ; 
The brave and true receive thy praise 

In stirring hymns sublime. 

Thy strains have soothed me many hours; 

They fill my deep desire; 
And seems that more than mortal powers 

Live in thy golden lyre. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 45 



THE MORNING SCENE. 



The bright-hued morn dawns in the eastern sky; 

The shades of night in silence disappear; 
The morning star now fades its radiant glow, 

And smiling day in gladness ushers near. 

In ever}^ recess through wide Nature's bounds, 
The tranquil airs of summer seem to dwell ; 

No sound the stillness wakes the landscape o'er, 
Save where the birdies peal their joyful swell. 

And yet, while reigns the penccful dawn of day. 
The leaflets nod and liow'rets gently lend 

Their sweetest fragrance to tiie morning breeze, 
With pleasing joys in harmony to blend. 

Thus to yon verdant mound the way I stroll, 
Anticipation's fondest hopes to share; 

And read the lessons in the morning scene, 
In jeweled letters ever written there. 

Now from yon rustic cottage in the vale, 

The smoky wreaths in curling f)aths are borne; 

And soon the shepherd's voice tiie stillness breaks, 
The flock his coming greet at early morn. 

Yet lingering adown the distant hills. 

The resplendent orb the heaven's o'er diffuse 

His rays that in gorgeous beauty teem, 

That paint the fleecy clouds in rosy hues. 

Now o'er tlie hill tops in his splendor robed. 

Comes forth the King of Day to charm the scene; 

All nature wakes glad notes of praise to sing, 

And e'en the dew-drop chants th' inspiring theme. 

And winding o'er the meadow's waving green, 
The plowman seeks his daily task, the field, 

Where sturdily he toils the livelong day, 

Inviting earth to give him bounteous yield. 



46 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



Years few have fleeteil down the strand of time, 

Since there the forest trunks their boughs o'erspread, 

And oft mid cool, refreshing shades was trod, 
The path that to the singing streamlet led. 

These passing years, replete witli fruitful toil, 

Have nobler honors reapM than worldly fame 

E'er won by sword on tlie bloody battle field, — 
That puts fair innocence to blushing shame. 

And who at him shall hurl reviling scorn? 

Or who his toiling lot can e'er despise? 
In the harvests garnered by the tiller's hand, 

The brightest glory of a nation lins. 

When fading day bids toil and labor cease, 

Not like the friendless trav'ler must he roam ; 

But gathered in the fireside's happy throng, 

He breathes the sacred air of 'diome sweet home." 



EVENING REFLECTIONS. 



The cloud-decked sky was rich in sunset glow ; 

Sweet flowery 0(U)rs eacli soft ze]>hyr filled ; 
Th' evening breezes yet were wliis})ering low. 

And forest songsters gently, sweetly trilled. 

Fair nature wore the sigh of parting day ; 

How bright and lovely were the woodland scenes! 
When forth I strolled along the happy way 

That filled my soul with sweet poetic dreams. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 47 



Ay thus I roved where charms the loveliest dwell, 

Fond recollections from departed days 
Came o'er my soul, as halmy breezes swell, 

And cherislied scenes burst o'er fond Memory's gaze. 

The stately oak whose grand and sturdy boughs 

Watched o'er my youthful sports full many a day; 

Tlie summer quiet there in peaceful drowse, 

I view'd through parted moments far away. 

Of near de[)artcd friends I fondly dreamed ; 

How true and lasting were those friendly ties! 
Tlieir sunny smiles, a vision bright they seemed, 

Moi-e l>eauteous tlian the tints of glowinsr skies. 



O'er fantned hopes that long Hfe's pathway lie, 
My wayward mind a wandering vision cast, 

Yet pondering well if varied fortune's sigh 

Would yield sweet treasures like tiie memories past. 

Though ha})[)y thoughts to Fancy's vision drew, 
None dearer, sweeter to its embrace came, 

Tlian those of her f(;r whom my love so true 

Yields hallowed joys art)und her sacred name. 

The gentle brook whose fair and silvery hue 

The breezes kissed beneath the smiling grove, 

Still softly lulls as when its murmurs knew 

Our pleasant strolls endeared b\' tender love. 

Her winning smiles shed o'er those wooing hours 
Now beam in golden radiance on that shore, 

Where crystal streams flow 'mid eternal flowers, 

And where she waits my hand to clasp once more. 

Thou Hope, sweet fountain of our purest bliss. 

From whose bright star our dearest prospects gleam. 

What jo3's can soothe in such a world as this, 

Like those embalmed in pure affection's stream? 



48 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



THE BEGGAR. 



A weary traveler, frail and grfiy, 
With tottering step and slow, 

Along a rude, deserted way, 
A youth espied him go. 

His aged mien was sad and drear; 

Despair dwelt in his eye ; 
And in the youth was wrought a tear 

Of tender sympathy. 

''Young lad," the stranger faintly said, 

"My steyjs more feehle grow ; 
Hast thou for me a mite of bread? 

My life seems ebbing low. 

''To those who dwell in po\'erty, 

High Heaven bids us give ; 
To share this W(trld's eold charity, 

Is sorrow's life to live." 

His liomeward way the youth betook; 

Relief lie quickly sought ; 
Bright changed the stranger's careworn look, 

When wdiolesome food was brought. 

Upon the ground with leaves o'erstrewed, 

He sat and ate his fare ; 
The boy with deepest pity viewed 

That haggard forni most bare. 

"Old man," the anxious lad inquires, 
'TIast thou no pleasant home? 

Is this the lot thy heart desires? 
Then why a pilgrim roam?" 

''0 youth, the query thou woiddst raise 
Hath touched this aching heart; 

As o'er ir^y life I cast a gaze, 
Sad recollections start. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 49 

•'I once — to SI e ik a solemn truth — 

Like you, was young and gay ; 
Both liealth and fortune blest my youth, 

And marked a happy way. 

"But as in years I older grew, 

Temptation's pleasing hand 
My service to a monarch drew 

Whose terror smites our land. 

'"Within his ranks I whiled away ; 

Kind warnings ne'er could daunt — 
Till on me fell in sad array 

Chill penury and want! 

''Around that dear old fireside, 

Smiled happiness so fair; 
But dire neglect, with evil pride. 

Brought misery and despair. 

''And oft at midnight's lonely hour, 

The homeward way I'd wend, 
Accui-sed by that despotic power 

That monarch's vice would send. 



"One night — no ray of starlight shone, 
Cold blew the wintry air — 

Came not that voice in gentle tone : 
'Dear husband, are you there?' 

"Kind heaven forbid ! but ah 'tis true ! 

Low hushed was every breath, — 
A darling babe and mother, too, 

Lay cold in silent death ! 

"And o'er their graves the songsters sing- 
'Tis there my loved ones lie. 

Because I served that wicked King 
And fled from pity's cry. 



50 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 

"Fair boy, would'st thou that monarch know? 

Where'er his army roams, 
Fall gloomy fates and dismal woe 

On bright and happy homes. 

"No worthy honors great and high 

His weary soldiers bear — 
A guilty blush and reddening eye, 

In one low rank they wear. 

"His palaces the charms of art 
Witli beauty's wealth adorn ; 

liut oh ! he makes how many a heart 
Grief stricken and forlorn ! 

"Thus by his strong and artful hand 

From virtue led astrny, 
A sad and mournful wreck I am 

And beg from dny to day." 



MINNIE'S DEATH. 



The wint'ry winds blow cold, mamma, 

The night seems lone and drear; 
And clouds of sadness o'er me dril't 

While I am lingering here. 
'Tis not that you're unkind, mamma. 

Or that 3'ou're cold to me ; 
'Tis not the fear of death that brings 

My gloom}^ tears so free. 

Did you see papa's gaze, mamma. 
When last he left the door? 

No gentle smile of sympathy 
His heavy mien came o'er. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 51 



He surely knows that I am ill ; 

How could he thus forget! 
When his dear Minnie loves him so, 

And she's his darling yet- 



How sad his blushing face, mamma, 

It looked at nie so bold 1 
*Tis strange his once v/arm care for us 

Has grown so light and cold. 
O did he always thus, mamma, 

Desert his own dear home? 
What makes him leave us here each night 

In sorrow all alone? 



Must be 'tis that vile King, mamma, 

Who, I have heard you say, 
Makes happiest homes a dreary place, 

And fairest hopes decay ; 
But can't be his dire cruelty 

Would do so great a wrong, 
As keej) my .papa 'way from me 

Through suffering iiours long. 

'Twould be my fondest joy, mamma. 

If I could see him now, / 

And press my sinking cheek to his 

And smooth his fading brow; 
To tell him that the angels bright 

My coucii are waiting nigh. 
To take n'.e on their downy wings 

To that sweet house on liigh. 

O dry your tears of grief, mamma, 

These cares will soon be past, 
And you'll be with me in that clime 

\V'here blows no wint'ry blast; 
Where naughty Kings can never rule, 

, Nor wring a grieving tear ; 
Where God from his bright, shining throne 

Gives nauoht but love and cheer. 



52 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



Tell papa that I longed to kiss 

His tainted lips once mure; 
Again his dull/lim eye to meet 

Before my life was o'er; 
But soon my failing eyes shall close, 

Fore'er in breathless sleep, — 
^tethinks I hear the waters flow 

In death's dark river deep. 

Is that his step I hear, mamma? 

'Tis near the broken gate; 
It he'd come nov\' tlie angels good 

Would little longer wait, 
That Minnie yet her papa's face 

Might see before she dies, 
And beckon him to serve that King 

Who dwells beyond th(^ skies. 

The father came at still n)idnight, 
But hushed was Minnie's breath 

Her rosy cheek its hue had lost 
In pale and listless death. 



THE CLOVER PLANT. 



Thou art crowned with beauty's blossom ; 

In the summer days serene, 
Spreading fragranee o'er the bosom 

Of the meadow bright and green. 

Often in the morning hours, 

Have I walked thy tangles through, 
Culling the«^ with knots of flowers 

Glistening with pearly dew. 

And the mower takes thy beauty 
But to wither 'neath the sun ; 

Thinks to slay thee highest duty, 
For the wint'rv davs will come.. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 53 



When snow whitens all the landscape, 
Garnered safe thou art a joy; 

To the barn mid flying snow flakes 
Skips the merry-hearted boy ; 

Gathers np the hay sweet scented, 
Deals it to the flocks and herds ; 

Now his task is done, contented 
Seems he as the summer birds. 

Thou dost yield the sturdy farmer 
Bounteous harvests for his toil; 

Thou to earth art a redeemer, 
Making rich the barren soil. 

Still work out thy blessed mission, 
Kindly plant of wondrous power; 

And the earth with wealth shall glisten 
Flowing fronj thy generous dower. 



AUTUMN. 



Sweet Autumn, bright thy changing hues 

Lie o'er the fading fields ; 
The earth in bounteous gifts profuse 

Her plenteous harvest yields. 

Among the gorgeous painted trees, 

I hear the leaves astir; 
But fadeless verdure paints the leaves 

That cleave the mighty fir. 

The joyful din of labor runs 

Through all the busy days; 

Soon will these golden hours' be gone, 
The soft and beauteous haze. 



64 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



E'en now I seem to hear the rain,- 
It sings a cheerful song ; 

For not all sadness nor all pain 
To rainy (la3's belong ; 



For at m}' sacred home and hearth, 
I read my cherished books ; 

And more than all to me on earth, 
My dear companion's looks. 

Long winter nights of cloud and rain, 
Ye, too, will soon be here ; 

Adieu bright days, we'll meet again 
When springtime days appear. 



ODE TO THE DYING YEAR. 



0, dying year, we must now part ; 

Thou'st been so kind and true, 
Sad feelings steal around my heart, 

As the night winds moan adieu. 

A cycle to eternity 

Has passed forevermore ; 
A page once hid in mystery, 

Now spreads njine eyes before. 

And as I read that checkered leaf, 

Lost moments come like dreams ; 

I see the prints of joy and grief 
Cast o'er those varied scenes. 

Around me all those visions blend — 

Too vividly T see 
The hour when coldness in a friend 

Chilled friendship's blood in me. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 55 



Then memory tells with sweet delight 
The time when kindness wove 

A heart to mine — it seemed a light 
To warm the pidse of love. 

How many dear and lovely ones 
Greet not the hudding year; 

They feel the light of hlessed suns 
Beyond this changing sphei'e. 

And stern adversity has frowned 

On nation, palace, cot ; 
And glorious triumphs all have crowned 

To bless our worldly lot. 

Let not the favored ones forget 

The haunts where misery dwells; 

The unseen tear, the dark regret. 
No fleeting year dispels. 

And looking o'er our lovely land, 
In nature's wealth com|)lete, 

I see fair Freedom stretch her hand 
To every far retreat. 

And may her firm but gentle laws 

Spread over land and sea. 
Till all mankind shall know her cause 

And feel no tyranny. 

Farewell, old year, deep thanks to thee. 
For lessons thou hast taught ; 

In duty's path may they lead me 
To labor as I ought. 

Still may our lives and thoughts each year 

T(^ higher aims arise, 
Till Right shall rule and Truth appear 

The fairest, noblest prize. 



56 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



TO N. B. C. 



ON HIS TWENTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY 



How still and fast Time wings us on ! 

The mon'jents. days and yoars, 
Ere at onr threshold they are gone. 

Bearing our smiles and tears. 

Life's drama runs through changing scenes; 

How man}^ days are dark ! 
An hour of gladness intervenes, 

Lit hy Hope's radiant spark. 

As rolls each speeding year around. 

The silent past we view ; 
At some fond thought or sacred sound, 

Youth's fancies hloom anew. 

Then with a longing, anxious eye, 

The future we survey. 
Trying to search the fates that lie 

'Long that mysterious way. 

But prophets wise we never are ; 

Wisely are mortals hidden 
By Fate to know not things afar, 

In years unfathomed hidden. 

Thus future-hlind we sail life's sea. 

With joy and grief our doom ; 
May fortune ever smile on thee, 

Thy loved ones and thy home. 

April 2, 1885. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 57 



TO MRS. A. W. T. 



ON HER MARRIAGE. 



The blithesome summer days are gone, 
And autumn hues bedeck the tields; 

Thy summer days have just be^un, 

And ripened hope its blessing yiehis. 

The days of waiting are no more; 

No longer seems the distance dim ; 
Th}' soul its transi)orts can outpour, — 

Thy hope, thy joy, are all for him. 

Rich blessings follow him and thee; 

From heart to heart may love e'er flow, 
Pure, unchanging and as free. 

As streams that come from founts of snow. 

A parent's, l)n)ther''s, sister's lo\'e 

Shall yet to thee with fondness cling; 

To them thy thoughts will often rove, 

And back sweet, cherished menjories bring. 

And we shall miss thy kindly face; 

Thy old lion^e know a vacant chair; 
But in our hearts thy wonted place 

Wiirkeep thy memory living there. 

And he whose manhood wooed and won 

Thee, as affection's tide arose, 
Through joy and grief sliall love thee on, 

And cheer thee till life's burdens close. 

A kind farewell we give to thee ; 

Ah ! would some better tribute given ; 
Th}' wedded life, e'er may it be 

Still upward to the gates of Heaven. 

' September 3, 1885. 



58 VOICES FROM THE CASCADKS. 



THE VOICE OF LOYE. 



Ye, whom the woods and hills yield purest joys, 
Who love to watch the merry chase of streams 
O'er rocks, and rove sequestered wilds among, 
^V'ith me go to a loved abode, and share 
The pleasures naught can give save Nature's voice 
And liopeful love. 

There, set from l)oisterous din a])ari, the glen 

With gentle slopes around and (piiet air. 

Its beauteous smile displays. On either side 

The chattering brook, rise trees ascending high, 

Whose reverend forms hold solenin rule o'er all. 

The leafy boughs outspread, deep shadows throw. 

And veil the peaceful dell with somber hues. 

There forest princ(-s, too, their rncr iiave run, 

And Time's dissolving liand its work betrays. 

All o'er these fallen patriarchs has crept, 

As if reluctant yet to see the sires 

Of sylvan pride dead — without s])ai-k of life, 

The silent tread of Nature, and embalmed 

These moidderings forms in shrouds of verdant moss. 

Near by a forest monarch lying low, 

Away the noisy brook — ami steps but few — 

A mossy mound inviting to behold 

It's home has made. A pillow soft it seems — 

Enchanting 'twould be to a weary one 

With tiresome step and dusty brow. 

E'en memory tells of loitering moments 'round 

These shaded haunts, when l)y the moss-draped mound 

Reclined I'd lay, deep fixed in pensive thought 

Of works frou] God's own hand, so bright and fair. 

Yet brighter far seemed that deep love that bound 

My soul with hers to whom my vows w(?re paid I 

But far from her fond smile ni}' lot 

It was to be. Thoughts of her rose like breezes soft ; 

And when to Fancy's view came her pure heart, 

The leaves and cliffs did shine with mellower hues 

And e'eu the waters murmured sweeter sounds. 



VOinES FROM THE CASCADES. 59 

Oh ! many an honr wa.s passed these wilds within, 

P'ore'er endeared by happy talks wilh brook, 

Trees and rocks — hallowed more by goodly dreams 

Of her I claimed mine own. 

But now these scenes charm not through faith's clear eye. 

My smiles they win not all alone, but hers 

With whom my life is sweet Together oft 

The solitudes amidst, we contemplate 

The gorgeous rays of splendor shed o'er all 

God's handiwork, so wondrous to survey ! 

Tliat radiant hope of expectation s bright 

A blest r(>ality now is, and marks 

The hours of chiingcful earth with happiness. 

Still m;\y creation fair its })0W'er lend 

Our hearts to wed in perfect sympathy. 

With rapturous eye as one, we muse by stream, 

'Mid flowers and forests, breathing free 

The inspiring joys that from them flow, 

While e'er from mountain, vale, and sea come forth 

The gentle whispers of eternal love. 



60 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 



YEARS AGO. 



The day is spent, tlie dnrkness nigli, 

The fire gleams hright upon the wall; 
And from the crowded years gone b}^ 

The olden times I now recall. 
Come, wife, sit down, your toil forego, 

And let's look back on youthful scenes, 
Imprinted in the long ago, 

When you and I were in our teens. 

You know the farms the old folks owned 

Were side by side, and so lived we. 
Till near to twenty you had j?rown. 

And I was over twenty-three. 
On many a bright and joyous day 

I've seen you strolling 'mong the flowers, 
Culling a lovely, rich bouquet — 

Ah ! were not those deliglitful hours? 

We went to school the same old road, 

And though I was but yet a boy. 
Your books I carried and your load 

Was lightened to my deepest joy. 
We talked our lessons o'er and o'er, 

(Though love was kindling in me tlien) ; 
Tom Jones had won the ])rize before, — 

We wondered if he next would win. 

The school went on and so did we ; 

And oftentimes when at my desk, 
I'd glance across the room to see 

If you were busy at your task. 
But things became so after while, 

I longed to take a moment's rest, 
And dart at you a genial smile, — 

And you smiled back — at least I guesscvd. 

The teacher held a rigid rule ; 

He made the little urchins frown ; — 
Remember you that spelling school? 

I missed a word, you spelled me down. 



VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. ()1 



You bliislied with pride and I willi shame, — 
At least so all our schoolmates thought 

For spelling well I had a name, 

But now for once I had been caught. 

liut truly cared I not a whit ; 

You were the heroine you know ; 
And Tom Jones on tiie strength of it 

Thought home with 3'ou he'd surely go. 
You "mittened" him — an act subhujc — 

And we walked homeward side by side; 
I must confess that from that time 

You were \uy hope, my jo}', my pride. 

And love my entire frame did rule, 

And you were in my every thought; 
You caught me at the spelling school, 

But now you in my love was caught. 
And so we wooed and courted on, 

Oft o'er the meadows did we stray ; — 
How slowly came the hour in June 

That marked our happ}' wedding day ! 

And can we e'er forget that scene? 

The summer prime its beauty shed ; 
The woods were clad in brightest green, — 

Yea, Heaven blest the day we wed. 
Though time and distance dim the fields 

In wooing days we wandered o'er, 
Our wedded life glides on and yields 

A higher bliss than e'er before. 



62 VOICES FROxM THE CASCADES. 



THE LAND OF REST. 



Ho ! ye socldoned hearts and wean', 
Hard by sorrow'? hand oppressed, 

Though this world seem dark and dreary, 
There's a hind of peaceful rest ; 

Where no stormy clouds e'er gather 
O'er the bright and radiant sky ; 

Where the tear of sadness never 

Trickles from the downcast eye. 

When misfortune's chilling breezes 
Drift our hopes to dismal flight, 

How the thought sweet joy awakens, — 
"There's a Land of pure delight." 

Hath a cherished friend departed, 
Or a loved one gone before? 

Look above, be not sad hearted, — 
Death shall enter nevermore. 

If a lover, wooed in gladness. 

To his vow hath proved untrue, 

Let the rays of Heaven's brightness 
Dry thy tears as morning dew. 

Disappointment's heavy burden 

Often chains our hearts to grief; 

But the shining hope of Heaven 
Lends a pure and sweet relief. 

In whatever path you labor 

Trials grave beset the way ; 

From thy calling do not waver, 

Brighter dawns the coming day. 



VOICES FKOM THE CASCADES. 63 



WE KNOW NOT. 



We know not all this world contains ; 

Its realms are many, broad and deep ; 
Beyond our ken there yet remain 

Things mortal vision cannot sweep. 

We know not all the treasures great 
Lost in the depths of dark decay ; 

The glories won in gorgeous state,— 

Like meteors blazed and died away. 

We know not mid this worldly jar, 

The voice that bids ambition rise; 

Each fellow views his luring star 

And fights unheeded for the prize. 

We canngt turn the hidden page 

And read tlie fate to each assigned ; 

We cannot count the coming age 

With all its triumphs of the mind. 

We know not all the bitter grief * 

That comes from ruined hope and trust ; 

We know not when life's pulse so brief 

May leave this frame to mouldering dust. 



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